


Nothing Fits Anymore

by SpicedGold



Series: The Nara Family [8]
Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: And all the drama that comes with it, Dealing with a young baby, Especially feelings, F/M, Fixing Relationships, Frustration, Shikamaru is the best husband, Temari is uncomfortable with everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 04:52:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18358991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicedGold/pseuds/SpicedGold
Summary: Nothing's been the same since Shikadai was born, and the frustration is building up in Temari, and she doesn't always know the best ways to deal with her feelings.Who knew Lee was accidentally good at giving relationship advice?





	Nothing Fits Anymore

Temari had been having trouble sleeping ever since the baby had been born.

She’d been having trouble with a lot of things, actually, that she refused to admit to anyone, but probably the most prominent thing was that she just didn’t feel comfortable ever. Her pregnancy, the birth, the weeks that followed had absolutely wrecked her body and she hated how she felt.

And she hated that she hated it, because she wasn’t some damsel in distress, and she wasn’t some superficial bimbo, and she didn’t care about looks, but her current state depressed and annoyed her.

Nothing felt right, none of her clothes fitted right, years of carefully toned and trained muscle had faded from months of not being allowed to do anything. Her stomach did not lay flat like it used to, and she hated that the most.

She had asked Shikamaru if he thought she was fat after the baby, but all he’d done was freeze like a deer in headlights before his self-preservation instincts kicked in and he’d fled the house, yelping something about an emergency at work. Liar.

But everything compounded, and she felt like nothing was working the way she wanted it to work anymore. It was an unusual feeling, being uncomfortable in her own skin, being drained and distracted all the time.

Another restless night, and she considered waking Shikamaru so he could put up with her uncharacteristic whining, but she still had a little bit of compassion left in her, and let him stay slumbering at her side.

It wasn’t fair.

He didn’t have to growl in annoyance over how none of his pants buttoned anymore, he didn’t have to feel a dull, nagging ache throughout his entire body all the time, he didn’t have to wake up in the night because that fucking baby doesn’t drink enough and her breasts hurt, and she was going to kill someone.

Her charitability fled, and she slapped Shikamaru’s shoulder sharply. He didn’t even flinch, far too used to the abuse, and continued to snore on. She put her pillow over his face, briefly toying with the idea of suffocating him. When he spluttered, and finally moved, she took her pillow back.

The bastard was still sleeping.

Restless and unhappy, she got up to check on Shikadai. That bastard was also sleeping.

“Wake up,” she whispered. “Eat something.”

There was no response from the small child. He stayed perfectly still with his dark fuzz hair a mess and tiny fists loosely clenched.

Temari decided she was tired of sitting around at home doing nothing. Sakura had already cleared her for gentle exercise – _Gentle_ , she had repeated, As in ‘not what you used to do’ – and Temari figured a short run would be good for her. Maybe burn off some nervous energy.

Maybe start getting the train wreck that her body had become back into shape.

Maybe chase Shikamaru the next time he bolted from a waspish question.

She picked Shikadai up, placing him against Shikamaru on the bed, as that would hopefully hint to her husband that she was out and he needed to look after her child or she would castrate him with a rusty spoon. He was good with hints like that.

She wedged a few pillows along her side of the bed to prevent her tiny, stupid crybaby from rolling off the bed and killing himself, and hoped that her bigger, equally stupid crybaby didn’t do the same thing on the other side.

Satisfied that her boys should survive the next hour or so, she grumpily attempted to find something to wear that still fitted and didn’t irritate her. Shikamaru’s brilliant solution to her complaining was ‘so tie your kimonos looser,’ but that wasn’t the point. He missed what she was saying – obviously she could tie it looser, she wasn’t an idiot, but it didn’t fit like it used to; _that_ was the problem.

She stole one of Shikamaru’s t-shirts, because all hers were too tight across her chest at the moment. Dumb baby. Stupid, dumb baby that never drank enough. Stupid dumb not-drinking baby that made it so she couldn’t find a damn bra that stayed comfortable for more than an hour or two at a time.

She glared at Shikadai, but he hadn’t moved, nestled into Shikamaru’s warmth, blissfully ignorant of his mother’s constant internal cursing.

She briefly considered shaking Shikadai awake to see if he was hungry, but Sakura insisted to leave him and let him wake up on his own. (Temari didn’t always follow her advice. Sometimes she dropped things and slammed doors deliberately to wake him, although he had an uncanny ability to sleep through the most distracting noises.)

When staring menacingly at him didn’t wake him up, Temari gave up with a huff, and stalked out the house.

The morning air was crisp and chilly, just cold enough for her to see her breath. It was just starting to become light. She had no particular route in mind, just to jog around until she got tired or got distracted by something.

Temari was twenty minutes into her run and desperately ignoring the way she was out of breath – _twenty minutes_ ; how much had Shikadai fucked her body up anyway? – when she caught an ominous flash of green in her peripheral vision.

She braced herself for the frivolity that was sure to follow.

“Good morning, Temari-san!” Lee greeted cheerfully, matching her speed. “I see you are also out for a youthful run this morning.”

It was instinctual to swat him away, but she resisted. She hadn’t seen Lee since before Shikadai was born – Lee and Shikamaru weren’t particularly close, so she rarely spent time with him, which was admittedly somewhat of a blessing.

“Hi, Lee.”

“Shikamaru is not with you this morning?” Lee queried brightly.

“Someone has to watch Shikadai,” she replied rather testily.

“Ah, of course.” Lee’s smile broadened, if that was possible. “How is the little Nara doing?”

Better than his mother, who was starting to regret speaking and running. Temari slowed down, falling into a walk and feeling like the biggest failure of a ninja to ever grace the earth.

“He’s fine,” she said shortly.

Lee walked silently by her side for a while, contemplating. If he said a word about ‘youth’ she would punch him in the face. Eventually, he settled, cautiously, on, “You look to be in a bad mood.”

She sighed. “Yeah, well, I am.”

“I see. And you were expecting your run to lift your spirits?”

She rolled her eyes. “I just wanted to get out the house. That’s all.”

Breath sufficiently recovered, she moved up into a jog again. Lee hovered at her side.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, a frown finally overshadowing his perpetual grin.

“Yes.” No. Everything was not alright. Everything was very far from alright.

But Lee wasn’t the person to talk to about that. No one was. She wasn’t going to talk to anyone, she was going to tough it out, like she did everything else, and walk it off, and get over it, and stubbornly handle everything alone. That’s what she did.

Lee was nothing if not persistent, though. He asked, tone innocent, “How is Shikamaru?”

The question, for some reason, stumped her. Temari’s stride faltered.

She didn’t know. She had no idea how Shikamaru was doing. She assumed he was fine but she hadn’t asked lately. Hadn’t cared to ask. Hadn’t bothered to think about him at all.

She stopped, frown deepening.

Lee trailed to a halt as well.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “We haven’t . . . spoken much.”

It was then that she realized she had been chronically ignoring him. Too wrapped up in her own thoughts and Shikadai’s needs, too focused on loathing herself, too busy lamenting her own body. When was the last time she had even asked him how his day was?

When was the last time she had kissed him just because? She couldn’t remember.

“You live together,” Lee said softly. “Surely you speak every day?”

No. She snapped at him every day. She verbally abused him every day. She brushed him off every day. She took him for granted every day. But she could honestly say they weren’t talking. Not the way they should be. Not the way they used to. Nothing much beyond ‘what’s for dinner’, ‘does Shikadai smell weird to you’, and other such staples.

She stared at Lee, slow horror dawning at her own inadequacies. “. . . I’m a terrible wife.”

“Of course you’re not,” Lee said brightly. His optimism was endearing but thoroughly misguided. “You love and cherish him.”

No, she didn’t. Well, she _did_ , but she hadn’t let him know that in a while. In a few weeks. In a few months – how old was Shikadai now? Eight weeks? She had been too busy seething to give Shikamaru any sort of affection, sometimes even spitefully withholding it, brushing him off, ignoring his curious attempts at intimacy, because she was angry and out of sorts, and not interested in giving him anything more than sarcasm and insults.

And he was quiet and passive, and just took it without question, always yielding to whatever she wanted. She chewed her lip thoughtfully. “I’ve been pretty mean to him lately . . . Haven’t really done anything nice for him in a while.”

She’d even rebuffed his cuddling, because sometimes his arm went places she didn’t want it to be, and it was easier to just push him away than to explain. She had been feeling sore and discouraged and bitter, but she had never bothered to wonder how he felt.

Shikamaru would never admit it in a million years, but he loved snuggling and cuddling. Being rejected for that probably hurt him more than anything else she could do.

Temari felt hideously ashamed. And still out of breath.

“Have you and Shikamaru . . . you know,” Lee looked away, lips pursed. “Since the baby?”

“God no,” Temari replied.

The poor man had tried, but Temari’s first instinct had been to nearly break his wrist, and since then Shikamaru had kept warily out her way, and taken suspiciously long showers. She wasn’t feeling guilty about that, but it occurred to her that maybe she should be nicer to him. Maybe she should talk to him.

Maybe she was feeling a _little_ guilty.

When was the last time she said anything nice to him? Probably the last time she thought anything nice about herself.

She tried to make excuses, “I haven’t exactly been in the mood lately.”

It wasn’t entirely true. She just hadn’t wanted Shikamaru to know how awful she looked and felt. She had pushed down any sparks of desire, because she was such a mess and everything felt strange, and she had a thousand excuses ready.

“You and Shikamaru are in the springti-“

“Careful what you say next; I’m not above decapitation at five in the morning.”

Lee snapped his jaw shut with an audible click. He considered his words, “I just mean . . . Surely, whatever is going on is easy to solve?”

As easy as jogging around the village should be, but she was struggling with that. As easy as just saying something to Shikamaru, as easy as not being a raging, angry mess all the time. She sighed. “Lee, it’s more complicated than that.”

It wasn’t, though. Just . . . She could just not be a bitch. She could just not focus on herself for one second.

“You and Shikamaru are the smartest couple I know,” Lee said, oddly quiet. “You’ll think of something.”

He let her muse for a while, and wallow in her thoughts.

“Shall we continue?” he asked after a pause, ready to spring into a run again.

“No,” Temari shook her head. “I need to go home.”

She had a few apologies to make.

 

She entered the house quietly, nursing some feelings of guilt, and determined to do better for Shikamaru.

She found him exactly where she’d left him.

Shikamaru was sitting on the bed, cross-legged, with Shikadai in his lap and sucking happily on a bottle.

“You fed him?” Temari’s good intentions flew out the window and were instantly replaced with irritation. “Why?”

Shikamaru was unfazed by her hostile tone. “Because he wanted to be fed. I didn’t give him much, I figured you’d want him, but he wouldn’t stop crying. This keeps him happy until you’re ready for him.”

Shikamaru looked up. “Where did you go?”

“For a run.”

Shikamaru looked down at Shikadai again. His big green eyes were open, blinking senselessly, sucking enthusiastically on the empty bottle.

Shikamaru’s soft smile made Temari’s irritation fade away, and she said softly, “I’m sorry.”

His head snapped up. “Huh?”

“I’ve been ignoring you. A lot.”

“S’okay,” he shrugged, eyes dropping down to Shikadai’s face again.

“It’s not okay. And it’s not you.”

“Hm?” he sounded mildly confused. “What’s not me?”

“We haven’t done anything together since Shikadai was born. We haven’t had sex since before that. I know you want to.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” he said dismissively. “It’s not a big deal.”

_Tell that to our water bill_ , she thought.

“I was ready weeks ago but I hate myself,” Temari blurted out.

Shikamaru’s forehead creased into a frown. With a sigh, he raised his eyes to Temari’s. “. . . What?”

“Everything feels wrong,” she admitted. “Like this isn’t my body, nothing’s where it used to be, everything feels different – my fucking stomach is _fat_ , Shikamaru, and stop smiling, you jerk, it’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” Shikamaru said. “I’d expect this from Ino, not from you.”

She crossed her arms, glaring down at him. “Keep laughing and you’ll be lucky to touch me before that child graduates the Academy.”

Shikamaru’s smile did not fade. “Don’t be troublesome. It’s not like that.”

Shikadai made a few gurgling noises, drawing Shikamaru’s attention down again. He smoothed down the wispy dark hair that stood up straight off Shikadai’s head.

“Are you not happy with yourself because you think I’m not satisfied with how you look?” Shikamaru smiled as Shikadai gurgled back at him, limbs flailing in uncontrollable bursts of motion. Finally, he tipped his head up to meet her eyes.

She shifted slightly. “I dunno.”

How could she be comfortable with Shikamaru when she wasn’t even comfortable with herself? It had been so easy to ignore him, and judge herself and quietly loathe every part of her body.

“Hold this,” he said, standing up and handing her Shikadai.

Temari took the baby without question. Shikadai nudged his head against her chest, but for once she ignored him, watching Shikamaru curiously. He touched a finger under her chin, just keeping her eyes on his.

“We’re both changing, all the time. It’s not a flaw, it’s not something to be ashamed of. When I met you, you didn’t have this scar,” he ran his finger down her neck, onto her shoulder, to the faint white line that hadn’t yet faded. “You didn’t look up at me, and you didn’t have a ring on your finger. You never smiled at me, you didn’t love me, but that all changed.”

She looked away, eyes on Shikadai’s fluffy hair.

“I didn’t fall in love with you because you’re beautiful,” Shikamaru murmured. “But you are gorgeous, and always will be to me. I’m not spending the rest of my life with you because of your body – even though you’re incredible and I don’t tell you that enough.”

He knelt down, hands settling on her hips, thumbs pushing her t-shirt up just a bit. She tensed slightly, wanting to draw away.

“Temari,” he said tenderly, thumbs sliding lightly on the soft swell of her stomach. “This will go away eventually. And I love it, because it shows me how you protected Shikadai before he was even born. How you kept him safe from the world until he was ready for it. You’re not fat, you’re gorgeous, and you’re a mother, and this,” he kissed her stomach softly, “Proves that to me.”

Temari stared down at him. She would probably think this was a lot more romantic if she didn’t have a baby sucking optimistically on her shirt. Shikadai chewed on a mouthful of fabric, clearly still hoping for food.

“I don’t care about sex. All I care about is that you’re happy, and Shikadai’s happy. Whatever it takes to get there, we’ll do it.” He stood up again, laying a hand on each of her shoulders.

“If it’s what you’re comfortable with, we can do it with the lights off. Hell, you can blindfold me if you don’t want me to look at you. Tie me down if you don’t want me to touch you, anything you want – within reason,” he added hastily as she cocked an eyebrow. “Temari, be reasonable, I have limits. I just meant that whatever it is that you need, I’ll do my best to do it for you.”

He touched Shikadai lightly. “You gave me this. The least I can do is give you whatever you ask for.”

“You don’t think I’m fat?” she asked, words trembling slightly. The intent had been to comfort _him_ , to make _him_ feel reassured, and just like he always did the bastard changed her strategy, changed everything, spun the whole world around until she didn’t know what she wanted anymore. She might be Suna’s best strategist, but she would never be as good as Shikamaru.

Shikamaru huffed. “There’s really no way to answer that . . . you’ll get mad no matter what I say.”

She shrugged one shoulder, deciding to save him the worry of answering by leaning up to kiss him softly. Shikadai made an annoyed-sounding squeal at being squished between his parents, and at having spent the last few minutes trying fruitlessly to complete his breakfast. He was ignored on both counts as Shikamaru slid one hand behind Temari’s head to hold her more firmly against his mouth.

It was only when Shikadai made a raspy wail that they separated.

Shikamaru sighed. “He’s ruining your shirt.”

“It’s your shirt, actually.” She detached Shikadai’s mouth from it. “Think this tiny demon spawn is hungry yet?”

“Probably,” Shikamaru took a step back. “You get him sorted, I’ll do breakfast for us.”

He was half way out the door when Temari stopped him with a softly murmured, “Shikamaru?”

“Yeah?” he turned to face her.

“I was meant to be making you feel better. Not the other way around.”

He smiled. “You already made me feel better. You came home. That’s all I needed.”

“I’m sorry for being such a bitch all the time.”

“After having a small human climb out of you, I think not feeling so good is a legitimate consequence. Anyway, it’s easy to fix.”

“What is?”

He came back to her, cradling her cheek in one palm. “If you can’t find the energy to love yourself right now, I’ll just have to love you more. Easy.”

“You’re such a sappy fool.”

“Yeah.” He kissed her softly. “We both knew that already.”

Shikadai’s annoyed noise increased slightly in volume at being ignored. He kicked his legs, face scrunched up.

“The problem isn’t going to just vanish, you know,” Temari grumbled. “I still feel weird.”

“You look amazing.”

She raised an eyebrow, not convinced.

Shikamaru sighed. “What can I do to help you feel better about yourself?” he asked.

Temari shrugged, staring at the wall. Quietly, she asked, “Come running with me in the mornings . . .?”

Maybe it would help. Maybe taking control back and _actually doing_ something would help, and maybe it would be nice to have Shikamaru with her. And if she didn’t asphyxiate on the way, they could even talk, and slowly transition back to what they had before. (Before the baby wrecked her . . . Dumb baby.)

“What about Shikadai?” Shikamaru held Shikadai’s tiny hand between his fingers. “Where on earth are we going to find someone to babysit at five in the morning?”

 

 

 

“I . . . would be . . . so _honoured_ . . .”

“Lee, stop crying and hold him.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I need to find me a man like Shikamaru, but I'm not sure where to start looking.


End file.
